


Equal Exchange

by orphan_account



Series: Writer's Block [3]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had been taking inventory of his weapons in front of that night's campfire when he looked up and caught sight of Ori across the way, scribbling furiously into his large journal with a nearly destroyed quill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equal Exchange

It was a weird thing for Fíli to notice, to get fixated upon. He had been taking inventory of his weapons in front of that night's campfire when he looked up and caught sight of Ori across the way, scribbling furiously into his large journal with a nearly destroyed quill. He paused with his hand hovering above a small dagger, watching the young dwarf with rapt attention.

He was hardly a fighter, most scribes never were, and he was more of a clumsy sort if anything. He had no saving grace on the battlefield, which was fine. He wasn't there to fight, really, though he would always try his damnedest  Fíli couldn't really fault the kid for that.

No, Ori's talent lay with words and thoughts. And watching him then, Fíli felt like he was watching magic in progress. Ori's fingers were light and nimble, showing a great talent and skill that few could boast and many more put down. The quill moved rapidly, never spilling a drop of ink after being dipped into the well, and he ached to get a look at the words being formed onto stained paper. 

Kíli nudged him with his shoulder and he cleared his throat, going back to making sure he had most, if not all, of his weapons. And if his brother noticed his sudden interest in the scribe, he had kept it to himself. 

He kept a closer eye on Ori after that, eyes drifting to him in the middle of battle or hiking. The scribe had such an intense focus, it was eerie. Fíli found himself trying desperately to have that piercing gaze fixated on him just once.

It became sort of an obsession, one in which only Kíli really noticed. Thorin cast him suspicious glances occasionally  and Dori spiked his tea once, but Kíli outright teased his brother through hushed whispers and knowing nudges.

"Go and talk to him," he had encouraged that first night in Beorn's home. They all had been given guest rooms, though they were spending most of the night in the common room having fun and being, well. Dwarves.

The brothers Ri were huddled in a corner atop a pile of furs lined with hay, laughing and having a good time all on their own. Fíli didn't want to intrude.

No, that was a lie. He very much wanted to intrude. But, being perfectly honest, Dori and Nori terrified him. They were the silent, unsuspecting kind of dangerous. Kíli seemed to catch onto his thoughts and scoffed, nudging his face into the crook of his brother's neck affectionately, as if to say "You're a moron." 

"You're a prince, heir to the throne. What can they do to you?"

And that was all it took. Fíli ruffled his brother's hair before taking a deep breath and approaching the family scene. They paused their conversation politely as he approached, and he was a little relieved to see no hostility on their faces. "Ori, may I have a word?"

Ori blinked owlishly for a few moments, before Dori nudged him and he remembered himself, face reddening. "Oh, um, yes. Of course."

The scribe followed him to a remote area of the room (still visible to any who cared to look), and sat cross-legged across from the prince. He fidgeted with his mittens (still a little bit damp) and seemed to debate over speaking. "Are.... Did you want something?"

Fíli chuckled, wanting to say that yes, he wanted the scribe laid out on silken sheets with deft fingers clutching onto the fabric for dear life but—he cleared his throat. "I simply wanted to talk, is all."

That had the smaller dwarf relaxing. The conversation had been faltering at first, the two of them stumbling to find a topic suitable for the two of them. But then Fíli had asked Ori to tell him a story, show him how he weaved words together, and it had taken off from there.

It was well into the night when the rest of the company began filtering out to their respective rooms, and Fíli was still deep in conversation with Ori. Ori was telling him about the process of becoming a scribe, all of the tasks involved with that profession, and Fíli was sincerely impressed. 

"Would it be weird to ask to watch you sometime?" Fíli had asked during a brief lapse in judgement and had frozen once he processed his own words.

Ori, too, seemed dumbstruck, before grinning widely and goofily. "Maybe a bit, but that's alright. I almost never find people who are so interested in calligraphy, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like to show off my talent with a pen."

Fíli bit his lip, wanted to say that as beautiful as calligraphy was, he was far more interested in the long fingers used as crafting tools. "I'm not much of an authority on the matter, but I bet it's the greatest in all of the land."

Flatterer. His grin was a tad wolfish. Ori didn't notice. 

"I could... I could show you right now, if you'd like." He fidgeted again and Fíli reached out to place a hand over the one pulling at a loop of yarn. Ori stilled but didn't shy away. 

"I'd like that a lot."

It wasn't long until they were in the spare room Ori had been given, his few supplies already unpacked and laid out upon the small, stone desk. There was a new quill and fresh ink atop it, no doubt supplied by their host, and Ori reverentially ran his fingers over the brown plumage before smiling and taking a seat in the rickety wooden chair. Fíli stood beside him, more than happy to get a more aerial view of what was going to happen.

Ori pulled open a smaller, leather bound journal with his name emblazoned on the front in red and thumbed his bottom lip in thought before seemingly deciding on what to write. Fíli watched enraptured as the ink and quill hit the paper and words began spilling over the pages like water trickling from a stream. 

This was a style of runes he'd never seen, so eloquent and pristine. It was truly a sight. And still readable, which was commendable. He had heard stories of scribes who wasted their talents writing unreadable works. 

Really, though, his focus was ever drawn to the dwarf's hands. One held the book still in just the right way so that there were even margins and still room to write, one finger flicking over the corner of the paper absently. The other held the quill at just the write angle, the long fingers looking as though they were made solely for writing and nothing else. Fíli wished he could make Ori a royal scribe then and there, whisk him away to a lavish room filled with books and scrolls and thousands of inks. 

Instead, he watched entranced, as he brought ink smudged fingers to his mouth in thought. Though, his eyes flickered to Fíli out of curiosity, and found the prince's eyes staring not at the book but at his mouth.

Fíli saw the exact moment it dawned on Ori, his less than noble intentions behind this night. There was hesitancy in Ori's face, and excitement, intrigue. He slowly set his quill aside, capped the ink, and left the book to dry. 

Fíli moved aside slightly as Ori pushed out his chair and (somewhat boldly, at least for him) stood before the prince, hand reaching up to brush a little smudge of ink just beside his nose. The blond's eyes flickered from the hand on his face to Ori's eyes, pupils blown dark and wide, and Ori shuddered. 

"You didn't need to pretend to be interested in my writing to get my attention," Ori said, a little sadly, though his smile was still happy.

He gave the other dwarf a rather sheepish look before placing a hand over the one on his cheek. "I never lied to you once tonight. Though I'll admit my interest was a little... less than wholesome at times."

That seemed to confuse Ori, who glanced at the book in befuddlement before turning his head back to look at Fíli. "You find writing erotic?"

Fíli shook his head, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of the other's hand. "No. Rather, I find you erotic, while writing."

Ori squeaked, turning red as his boldness left him in a rush. Fíli clasped his hand over Ori's and used the grip to tug the other forward so that their torsos were pressed together. "I. Well. Oh."

"Is that alright with you?" he asked. Then he tilted his head to the side and decided a different approach would be best, one less vague. He got on one knee before Ori who seemed at a loss for what to do, eyes darting around rapidly, but never straying from Fíli for long. "I'll admit it was your hands that caught my attention first. But I'm finding that the more I see of you, the more there is that drives me wild. I would have you, if it should please you?"

"Have-! Oh, Mahal. I'm, I've never. And you're _royalty_ so I really don't want to disappoint you."

Fíli smiled earnestly. "I would have you any way that you would give me, or not at all. This decision is entirely yours, and I would ask that you not base this off of social status. I'm not one for abusing that."

Ori smiled nervously  before kneeling down on level with Fíli and placing a small kiss to his cheek before getting flustered and backing away. "It's okay with me. More than. I'd just rather not. Er, be buggered, as it were."

Fíli stood, pulling Ori to his feet with him, and began to undo the multiple layers of clothing the other dwarf wore. "I propose an exchange."

That caught Ori's (admittedly already rapt) attention, who's eyes locked onto the prince's own with mirrored arousal and interest. "What exchange would that be, Master Fíli?"

Fíli chuckled low in his throat, bordering on a growl, and he leaned in to kiss the other dwarf breathless before replying, "Your hands for my mouth."

A strangled noise worked it's way out of Ori, who nodded fervently while staring at said mouth with pointed agree-ability  He was nearly out of his underclothes then, and he felt obliged to undress the prince, who had far more layers and intricate buckles that Ori. 

Fíli was unsure of where to look at first. Deft fingers worked at his clothing, but a rather comely body was right before him. Ori was far from the hulking mass of muscle that Dwalin was, but he wasn't limp either. He was lean with more refined muscle than not, though it was under a layer of fat. He ran his hands over Ori's sides appreciatively, enjoying the soft moans he got in response.

It seemed like hours before he was undressed, and by that point the two of them had teased one another to their breaking points. Ori had his palms pressed to the thick blond fur that splayed across Fíli's torso, fingers tangling in it as he exchanged heated kissed with the other. 

Fíli's own hands had strayed to cup Ori's backside, pulling them close together and aligning their arousals as they slowly moved against one another. Finally, one of them had the presence of mind to remove Fíli's trousers and lead the two of them to the down-feather bed. 

Ori sat on the edge, looking up at Fíli who was between his spread legs. His hand hovered nervously in front of the other's pelvis before Fíli placed his hand over it and slowly guided it to his arousal. 

"If you want to stop at any time, tell me. I promise it will end right there," he said, sensing Ori's tension. 

The scribe sincerely thought that over, fingers still gently enclosing around Fíli's erection. He nodded to himself before smiling up at the other. "No, I should be fine. This is just more than I dared to hope for when joining this quest. I mean, a prince!"

Fíli gripped his chin softly between calloused fingers before leaning to rub his nose alongside the other's. "And a scribe worthy of the fame of kings. Don't think yourself so low, for I'd have you on a pedestal if I could."

Ori flushed heavily, but didn't argue with him. And he seemed invigorated by the words, trying to start a pace, though his palms caught on the dry skin of the other's erection. Fíli sighed in frustration at his lack of foresight. 

Ori, though. Ori was a thinker. He scrambled away for a moment to dip his fingers into the oil of his unlit lamp and rubbing it about his palm. When he returned to his position at the end of the bed, and with Fíli back between his thighs, he was more confident. 

His fingers closed around the still hard erection, slowly beginning an up-down motion, watching Fíli. The dwarf's eyes were on his hand, however, and Ori saw that for the opportunity to show off that it was. 

He sped up the pace, twisting his wrist just as he reached the reddened head of his cock, and thumb flicking over the slit before dragging back down with a slightly tighter grip. That had Fíli groaning loudly, slumping forward to rest his hands on Ori's shoulder as he watched the hand work him rather embarrassingly quick to completion. 

The room was filled with nothing but Fíli's noises of satisfaction and Ori's small noises of triumph. Fíli's brain was addled mush, but he still thought it terribly endearing that Ori took pride in making Fíli lose himself. And his tongue was poking out between his lips enticingly as he concentrated on the task at hand.

That was the moment Fíli realized he had that precise gaze on him for once, and when he locked eyes with Ori, he was finished. His cock twitched and spilled his seed over Ori's hand, the scribe staring at it in surprise, everything just then catching up with him. He brought it up to his mouth curiously, though Fíli caught it before he could do anything and began to lick his semen off of it.

Ori's breath hitched and he looked positively wrecked and more than desperate for his own release. Once Fíli felt he had lavished enough attention to the long and lithe fingers, he was more than happy to oblige. 

He knelt between Ori's thighs, who spread them further, placing his hands on the other's hips as he slowly took the purplish erection into his mouth. Ori let out a higher sort of moan, biting down on his lip to try and keep from waking the whole company.

Fíli wanted to tell him to let it all out, let everyone hear, but he knew that would only further embarrass the other. So instead, he took him down to the hilt, throat clenching just slightly before withdrawing and swirling his tongue under the head of his cock and making Ori moan through his teeth. 

The scribe's hands flew to his hair on instinct and he wasn't sure if it was an offense in this case or not. Fíli met his gaze, cheeks hollowed and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth before nodding his assent. 

The nimble fingers clenched into the fine golden mane, twisting with each passionate shudder that wracked Ori's body. Fíli began a teasingly slow pace of swallowing Ori whole before simply licking over him. 

"Fíli, please. Mahal, please, please."

'No need to call me Mahal,' he wanted to say. But he instead occupied his mouth with other things. He swallowed all of Ori that he could, growling to the best of his ability, and that was it. Ori nearly screamed, back arching sharply with his head thrown back an his toes curled into the cement. 

Fíli, ever happy to be of service, swallowed his release without a smidgen of protest, soothingly rubbing circles into Ori's hip bones as he body came down from the high of orgasm. 

"That was... wow."

"You're telling me," Fíli replied, voice completely ruined, once he'd let go of the slowly softening cock and stood to stretch out his limbs. "Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?"

"Don't feel obliged  If this was a one time thing, I'd be understanding. I'm no wilting flower, I can handle it."

Fíli nudged him under the blankets without a care for their state of mess and undress, soon following him. That should have been answer enough, but he still told him, "If you'd be willing, I'd like for this to happen again. Preferably for a long while."

Ori hid his face in the crook of Fíli's neck as they huddled together beneath the blankets, but he nodded rapidly. "More than willing."

And many, many years later, after the events involving the ring and the passing of elves from Middle Earth, a journal would be discovered deep within the depths of Moria. Ori, it would say on the cover, and it would tell personal details of the historic quest of Thorin and his companions. 

And on the last page, scrawled hastily, and emotionally, there would be a secret eulogy of a fallen prince. _'To Fíli, who taught me to feel and love and made me feel more important than the world itself.'_

**Author's Note:**

> Does that count as a sad ending? I really tried for it not to be but. Oops.


End file.
